


Drowning

by ozuttly



Category: Kamen Rider Ex-Aid
Genre: Cuddling, M/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-05 19:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20278891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozuttly/pseuds/ozuttly
Summary: Things are good, except when they're not, and maybe Parad isn't as good at coping with the bad things as he wants to be.





	Drowning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aquabluejay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquabluejay/gifts).

It’s usually small things that do it. Little noises that he isn’t expecting. Emu’s hand on his shoulder without warning. Little, insignificant things that shouldn’t actually bother him, but they do. 

Parad is happy with where he’s ended up, mostly. Emu is with him, finally, acknowledging him and staying with him and spending time with him. He’s not alone anymore. Sure, before he had Graphite, and that helped, at least a little, but Emu is his other half, the other side of his coin, the puzzle piece that slots perfectly into place with his. Things should be good now that they’re back together. He’s whole again.

Except they’re not good. Not all the time, anyways. They have moments, when he and Emu are gaming together, enjoying takeout pizza and sitting squished too close together on Emu’s tiny, shitty little couch. Those times are good. When he occasionally stays the night at Emu’s apartment, because he doesn’t want to go back to the CR, and Emu lets him share his bed and snuggle up to him, those times are good. 

It’s the other times that are bad. The times when he’s alone with the other doctors, the ones who tolerate him but haven’t forgotten about the time they spent as enemies. Those times are bad. When he sees Dan Kuroto smirking idly from his prison, looking at him with eyes that are too smug and too knowing, those times are bad.

When he showers, it’s bad. He doesn’t know why. Showering should be calming, soothing. Emu always looks better after he has one. He knows that most humans are the same way. Luckily, as a bugster, he doesn’t actually need to bathe. He does it, sometimes, because Emu insists that he shower after sex, no matter how much he insists that he doesn’t actually need to. 

He hates it, though. The feeling of the water hitting his skin, the sound of static filling up his ears as the pattering against the bathroom tile drones on, the enclosed space. It reminds him of rain. It reminds him of being trapped. He feels like the water will rise up, swallow him, drown him, and he won’t be able to get out. 

It reminds him of death. He doesn’t know why. 

It’s an incredibly stupid thing to feel, and he knows it. It’s why he hides it from Emu. It’s why he chokes down the panic, smothers it deep inside his chest. It’s why he does what Emu asks, because he doesn’t want to disappoint him, after everything that he’s done for him. He always hides the bad things from Emu. Maybe that was what he was born to do. 

It gets to be too much one night, though. He isn’t even sure what happened. There’s a noise in the pipes, a rumbling, and it echoes in his head as he stands in the tub. The water backs up a bit, rising up past his toes, and he can’t help it.

Parad doesn’t let himself have panic attacks. They’re a stupid reaction to something that isn’t even there, to a memory of death and darkness that wasn’t even permanent. A stupid, weak part of his psyche that he doesn’t want anybody else to see. He’s always been the strong one, even between him and Emu, he’s always been--

“Parad, is everything ok? I think there’s an issue with the pipes--”

Emu breaks off as he comes into the bathroom, wearing only his boxers. Parad hears him, but for some reason he can’t actually look up at him. It feels like his body has seized up, like he can’t actually move, and he hears a soft gasp before Emu is coming over and turning off the water. 

It’s only then that he realizes he’s shaking, his entire body trembling from head to toe, and when Emu wraps a towel around his shoulders he just sort of collapses into him. He doesn’t want to have to explain what happened, when he doesn’t really understand it all himself. But Emu doesn’t ask if he’s ok, just pulls him in close and holds him, with a whispered ‘is this ok?’ in his ear. 

He leads him out into the bedroom, sets him down on the bed and, when Parad is done clinging to him, he gently towels him off. Normally it would be nice, having Emu pampering him like this, but right now Parad just feels shaky and numb. 

At least the walls no longer feel like they’re closing in on him. 

He looks up when he hears Emu say something, but it takes his brain a few minutes to catch up to what was being said. 

“Are you feeling a bit better?” Emu asks, and Parad licks his lips, swallowing a few times before he nods. 

“I’m fine,” he says, and Emu frowns at him. Before he can even sit up, Parad feels his shoulders being softly pushed back down. 

“You’re not fine. How long have you been having panic attacks?” Emu asks, and Parad flinches. He hates that he flinches, because he’s not scared of Emu, but he can’t help but recall the feeling of nothingness, of ceasing to exist, of being completely worthless. Emu pulls his hand back from where it had been carding through Parad’s hair, and Parad wants to ask for it back, but his mouth doesn’t quite work. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Emu says softly, and Parad bites his tongue. He doesn’t want to show his weakness to Emu, but if he doesn’t, then who can he show it to? He feels like he’s drowning again.

“...Two years, maybe. It’s not a big deal,” he says, and Emu’s hand startles from where it’s resting on his arm. 

“Two…? Since the fight with Gamedeus?” He asks, shocked and in disbelief, and Parad tries to let it roll off his shoulders. 

“Look, it’s not… It’s not a big deal! They just happen, I’ve gotten used to them.” He shrugs his shoulders as though he can physically get rid of the weight on them, but Emu just looks worried. 

“You never told me,” he says, quiet, and Parad hates that he looks sad. 

“I didn’t tell you because it’s not important,” he says, and he looks down at his hands in his lap. “They don’t even have to do with anything! It’s just, some things make them happen sometimes, that’s all. Like I said, I’m used to them.” 

Emu looks up at him, his mouth twisted into a worried grimace. 

“You shouldn’t have to be fine with it,” he says, reaching out and gripping Parad’s face in his hands. Parad squirms a bit, but he doesn’t actually have it in him to look away. 

“You can talk to me about this,” he says, all soft and mushy and it makes Parad melt. “I want you to talk to me about this, if it’ll make it easier on you. I want you to rely on me. Can I do anything to make you feel better?” 

Parad frowns, and his eyes dart to the side. He doesn’t want to say that he only wants Emu to rely on him. It sounds incredibly selfish, from a realistic perspective. But he’s always been Emu’s escape, emu’s protection, and putting a burden on him feels wrong. 

But he’s also notoriously bad at saying no to his other half. 

“Just lay with me for a bit,” he says softly, and Emu smiles at him, taking his hand and flopping down so that they’re facing each other in the bed. It’s small and cramped, as it always is, but it makes Parad feel better as he scoots in closer, cuddling as close as he can to Emu’s body heat. Breathing in the smell of his hair relieves the tension in his lungs, the feeling that he’s going to drown. Emu wraps his arms around him and holds him tight, and Parad closes his eyes. 

“Next time you feel like you’re going to have a panic attack, tell me?” Emu asks, a soft, almost pleading tone in his voice. Parad feels tired, and weak, but also, now that Emu knows, at least he doesn’t have to pretend to be stronger than he is. Nuzzling up against his neck, he nods. 

“Ok. Next time I’ll let you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really am not used to writing Parad-based stories but this was a fun little exercise! I always find him a difficult character to write, so I hope this isn't TOO off-base. I haven't seen any of the ex-aid movies also so I don't know if this contradicts any characterization in those. Shrugs.


End file.
